Davy

Running from the pursuing mob she splashed through the stream, her meagre clothing ripped and with deep scratches on her exposed skin. She hoped that the water would at least buy her some time from the dogs which were not well trained and from what she had glimpsed during her recent foray into the village, were starved into action rather than conditioned for the hunt. Her destination was the waterfall within the narrow Ghyll which lay ahead. As the woodland receded behind her and the vegetation thinned out an ancient riverbed of smooth rocks and dry cascades emerged. Five small brooks were all that remained of the glacial river, and they barely trickled during the summertime. Summer had ended and the rains had already been heavy for the last month. The five brooks were currently three strong flowing streams. Her footing needed to be secure as she dashed towards the entrance of the Barguest Ghyll. A place feared by the locals as a site of beasts and Goblins, the folklore spoke of an eerie green light that could be seen through the waterfall when dusk fell. The locals called the waterfall Davy’s Spew and the plunge pool Davy’s Draw on account of how it dragged people to their deaths. Whilst the green light in the myth was true, it had nothing to do with Goblins or any beasts that she had ever seen.

The riverbed rocks became large boulders as she reached the lip of the waterfall’s plunge pool. Scrambling up to the pool edge her foot slipped on the smooth wet stone. She cursed sharply at the pain in her turned ankle as she glanced up at the steep sides of the Ghyll. Her preferred route would have been to zigzag her way up to the top and then climb down one of the larger crevices which eventually led to the underground caverns, but she could not risk the villagers of Burhmouth seeing her against the ridgeline. She decided instead to take the more arduous route through the waterfall itself although her turned ankle was going to make it more difficult. Relying on folklore to deter the villagers and their dogs she began to navigate the shale and make her way to the base of the waterfall. Even from a hundred feet away the spray was cold and within seconds she was soaked and shivering; though how much was cold and how much fear she could not tell. Her feet slid as she struggled to gain purchase. Through gritted teeth against the jarring pain in her ankle she propelled herself forward towards her goal. The waterfall was close, and she knew where to place her hands and feet in order to access the cave entrance behind the fall itself. Not wanting to give away her route she glanced behind her. At the entrance of the Ghyll she saw the orange glow of torchlight with enlarged shadows of people and snarling dogs cast on the opposite wall. One final push with her good foot enabled her to catch the handhold by which she could swing over to the small ledge situated directly behind the waterfall. As she swung up, she caught sight of the first of the evening’s bats exiting the waterfall high above her. She swung herself up and over onto the ledge landing on her good foot as she desperately grasped the moist moss laden walls for grip to prevent herself from sliding into the plunge pool some forty feet below her. The roar of the water reverberated through her, and the Ghyll was obscured by a swirling curtain of bats, water, and foam. The subsequent spray almost knocked her off her feet as it bounced off her thin ledge. She carefully sidled along the edge by muscle memory alone, hands and feet numb, until she reached a thin familiar crack in the rock. It was less than four feet tall and two feet wide, but this was her chosen entrance lobby this evening.

Once inside she fell to the floor with a wet thud, her legs were heavy, her lungs burned, and her heart felt as though it was trying to punch its way out of her ribcage. Hunkering down with her back against the wall to catch her breath she became mesmerised by the bats leaving for their nightly feast, and absently wondered how many would return after the hawks on the ridge had their own feast. Levering herself upright she proceeded past the mound of bat feces which had an odour strong enough to deter even the most determined explorer. Upon closer inspection dung beetles glistened as they went about their business making the pile appear to move as if it were a beast slowly lumbering into action. Farther down into the labyrinth of caves and caverns she went. Her legs barely supported her as she weaved through tight squeezes, under stalactites, around forests of stalagmites through underground waterfalls, and along the edge of the underground river, who’s exit crashed into the base of Davy’s Draw approximately a hundred feet below the surface. She carefully manoeuvred herself towards her crossing point, the Pillars of Davy, a series of stalagmite bridges and ledges which provided a precarious crossing over the broiling river below. She sucked in a lung full of air and ignoring the pain in her ankle, she deftly stepped across to the shelter.

A deep sigh of relief escaped her lungs as tightly strung muscles relaxed upon avoiding the torrent below her. This was where she felt safest, it was magical to her and glowed with a soft green light. The moss-covered walls of the waterfall emitted green bioluminescence and the moss thrived in, and around, Davy. It also retained the heat from the rock and soaked up the water in the air keeping the area habitable. Her fingers felt along the rough stone shelter entrance for the edge of the moss-covered animal hide curtain camouflaging the entrance to her home. Streams of light lit the area during the day as the pinholes in the limestone above allowed life-giving daylight to penetrate deep underground. The caverns provided fresh water, and shelter, with food and furs delivered by animals falling through the crevices above onto the caverns floors she roamed. She had occasionally found human skeletons with possessions such as knives still useable. Her bed was a moss mattress with animal hide, furs and a small pale blue teddy bear with a chewed left ear and no nose. She crawled under the curtain and fell shaking onto her bed. Her stomach empty, clothes wet, face and hands stinging from cuts and grazes. Grabbing the teddy bear she curled up inside the furs and closed her eyes. The roar of Davy far below her.

On the cusp of sleep, she thought she heard dogs barking somewhere above her. Whether as a memory, dream, or reality the sound disturbed her and she pulled the covers tighter around her wondering if he would miss her when she fell asleep forever, or would she just become another pile of unidentified and lost bones lit by the eerie green light from within the belly of Davy.